


Symphonium!

by SampleText



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Symphony, Gabe's POV, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 14:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8670547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SampleText/pseuds/SampleText
Summary: First Person Fic. Gabriel's POV
“You don’t know Jack? Jack Morrison the famous new rising violinist?” The woman butted in. Well if he’s so famous, why haven’t I heard of him?





	

One. Two. Three. Four.

 

One. Two. Three. Four.

 

Today is the day. Audition day. I clench my violin by the neck, my clammy hands sticking to it. My bow swings sways left and right in the air, like a backward pendulum. I’m not nervous, just excited. Today is the day. The day I’ll finally get into a symphony, and get a job.

 

Right now, I’m supposed to be warming up for the audition, but it’s not good to stress too hard before the audition. Your body will get tense because of all the mistakes you’ll make. So I’ll just stay here in the stuffed warm-up room. It’s a big room, enough to fit maybe, a hundred people, yet more and more people keep trying to stuff themselves in to get a few seconds of needless practice. Any more idiots and I don’t think I’ll be able to hear them call my name. The flurry of clashing sounds coming from the pointless “warm-up” keep building up, drowning out any form of thought or reason. The loud harsh trombone clashed terribly with the squeaky violins and rumbling timpanis. Almost enough to disturb my beat, but I keep it steady, steady as a metronome. What does disturb me, however, is the stench of everyone's sweat from the heated room. This suit doesn’t stop me from sweating. It’s suffocating, but I think I’ll survive. I think. I just have to keep the metronome running.

 

One. Two. Three.

 

One. Two. Three. Four.

 

One. Tw-

 

My metronome was interrupted by the silence spreading throughout the room. The entrance to the room was now open, and a cold breeze from the now open double doors brought some relief. A short woman walked through the doors and stood on a chair. She couldn’t quite stand over everyone, however, so she grabbed a tall stool to help make up for her short attire.

 

“The next applicant is Gabriel,” The lady squinted at her clipboard and brought it closer to her face. As if that will help her read it, “Gabriel, Reyoos?”   
  
“It’s Reyes.” I corrected her. Everyone should know how to pronounce my name if we’ll be working together.

 

“Sorry, love. Come, follow me,” she smiled at me and gestured me to follow her. I collected all my stuff: sheet music, violin, bow, rosin, water bottle. There was absolutely no possibility I was going back in that sauna for Satan himself, but first, how do I get out. When I arrived and entered the prep room, I made the strategic decision of choosing the area further away from people. Isolation to relax before it was my turn. The sheer amount of people that came in, however, negated my decision.  

 

The clumped sea of nervous people wouldn’t part for me. My requests for room to exit were buried under everyone’s frantic ‘practice’. Tapping their shoulders wouldn’t even get their attention, so I resorted to shoving people to move. That definitely got their attention. Short-lived glares pierced my back as I made my way through the people. I returned each glare with a smile and peace sign.

 

After pushing my way through, the door now stood grandly in front of me. I hardly noticed how tall and grand it was, but that wasn’t important. Right now there was an audition. I pushed the doors open against huge gusts of sharp chilling wind that forced itself through the openings. It was sharp against the slick fire burning my cheeks. The cold air encased the lava flowing through my fingers. I was a fire in the cool San Francisco morning.

 

“Over here!” The woman called me down the hallway and in front of a door. “Alright, just enter on in. You can bring your stuff inside,” she grinned and stuck her hands out to present the door for me. How eccentric.

 

“Thanks,” I replied and smiled back.

 

“Good luck!” She slapped my back and chirped, “You’ll do fine.” There was extra emphasis on the ‘fine’.

 

I know I’ll do fine. I’ll try my hardest and if I don’t get it, just need more practice _._ “I hope I’ll do fine,” I responded. Before I even put my hand on the door handle, my stomach floods with excitement. I can’t let this disturb my audition. I’ve gotta remember the metronome.   
  
One. Two. Three. Four.   
  
One. Two.

 

“C’mon love, we don’t have all day.” she started pushing me towards the door. She was right, I can’t hold up everyone else. I’ll just go in, try my hardest, and accept whatever result I get. Back straightened, shoulders pushed back and chest forward, I enter the brightly lit room. My eyes had to adjust from the sharp contrast of the dim, dull hallway to the bright, sweat-and-coffee-scented room. The room had a table and chair for the judges, and a music stand and chair for me. Hanging on the walls are large absorption panels to cancel out the echo. There are three judges. A woman with tanned skin tone from what I assume is of middle-eastern ethnicity, a bulky tall man with white hair who’s probably white, and a, midget. The midget had one long blond beard.

 

“Hello, I’m Gabriel Reyes. I’m auditioning for the violin section. My selection is ‘Bach’s Chaconne’ from Partita two in D by, uh, Bach.” I introduced myself and handed the judges a copy of the sheet music.

 

The woman shot her hand out before I started my piece. “Wait. We don’t have much time, so instead play a two-octave scale of your choice and the first twelve measures.” Understandable. The judges seemed to invite everyone on the same day.

 

I smile back and respond, “Okay.” Which scale should I play? I think for a moment and then it hits me. A Melodic Minor scale. I’ll play that, simple, yet different. “I will play an A Melodic Minor scale,” I inform the judges and raised my violin up. Bow in hand, I placed it on the strings before I started to move. Out of the silence blanketing the room, a sound sliced through it and a strong, bold, loud note was played. It’s bad to start weak and shy, which is why I started off with personality. God, it’s hard to move when my dress shirt is sticking to my arms and body. I went up the scale, notes hinting to something melancholy only to be overturned by unnervingly bright sound. My heart was beating with bottled energy, and my back was sweating a river; I’m brimming with excitement. I reached the top of the scale and lingered on it, giving the sweet harmonious resonance a chance to please the judge's ears. Moving down was a different situation. The two notes after the top were moved lower to spread a lingering gloom over the room but that’s all that changed. Those two notes on the first and second octave. Then, I was back to where I started, but a looming sadness now sludged over the judge. The bow didn’t leave the violin yet, I was savoring the moment. I let my arms fall down to signal that I completed the scale.

 

Quicker than the fall of a hairpin, I put my arms back up to start my piece, Bach’s Chaconne, but before I could even begin, the bulky male judge put his hand up. “Stop, we’ve heard enough,” they all smiled. Dios Mio, I was absolutely terrible. The dwarf followed up on the other judge, “We will get back to you later.” He had the thickest accent I’ve ever heard. Like he was talking with a mouthguard on.

 

“Thank you for,” nothing, “your time.” I gathered my stuff and exited the room. Gloominess must’ve painted my face because the short woman outside looked at me funny. Her left cheek scrunched upwards along with her left eye.

 

After a few seconds of some really awkward staring, she finally asked, “So it went well, right?” No, of course, it didn’t go well.

 

“I didn’t get to even finish,” I responded. The corners of my eyes are getting kind of moist. It might lead to crying, but I won’t let myself cry. Not in front of a stranger.

 

She breathed in with her teeth closed like she was in pain. Not like she was in any pain. “Oh boy, that’s not a good sign,” she agreed.

 

“Well, at least you’ve learned from the experience!” The man next to the woman chimed in. Shut up I’m in pain, and who are you?

 

“Excuse me, but who are you?” I asked the man. He had really pale blond hair and blue eyes. He’s definitely white. His skin definitely white as well. The white suit also didn’t help contrast from all his bleached hues.

 

“You don’t know Jack? Jack Morrison the famous new rising violinist?” The woman butted in. Well if he’s so famous, why haven’t I heard of him?

 

“Sorry no. I’ve never heard of this man,” I laughed sheepishly. Maybe I should know this man, Jack. She gasped dramatically and placed her hand over her chest as if she got shot. So theatrical.

 

He started laughing too and said, “I don’t expect everyone to know me, Lena.” Damn right, you can’t be that famous. On a side note, she’s called Lena. Good to know. “Hey. How about we go for some food. Get your mind off the audition and start moving on,” he continued. Before I could rebuttal with the possibility I could’ve gotten in, he made a generous offer. “I’ll pay for all three of us.” Jack was smirking, probably because he knew not many people would reject free food, or at least I wouldn’t.

 

“Sure alright,” I accepted the invitation. If he’s gonna pay, there ain’t no harm in eating some brunch with them.

 

“Okay, I just need to do some audition first,” Jack replied to me. To do _some_ audition? Is this all a joke to him? He entered the audition room, leaving me out here with Lena. So, am I supposed to just wait here?

 

“Oi, Gabriel. I’m going to get someone to take over my shift. Let's exchange numbers so I don’t lose you.” Lena pulled out her phone and gave it to me. I put my number in and gave her my phone as well. “You can stay with Jack after he comes out. I need to fetch the next applicant,” she kept rambling on. I just kept nodding or giving grunts of acknowledgment. Soon her talking blurred into background noise to replace the silence of the hallway. Then she ran off. My sweat is still sticking to my dress shirt and it’s getting cold. Do I need to take a shower? Probably, I’m all gross and smelly. Just as I was about to leave, Jack came out of the room.

 

“Hey where are you going?” he asked.

 

“I need to take a shower first. I was sweating oceans today,” I responded. Does he even have any sense of smell?

 

“It’s fine, you’re not that bad. Besides, I’m sure your suit covers that all up.” Gross, but he’s right. I think I could pull it off if I really wanted to.

 

“Fine, where are we going to eat?” I asked him. Where we going, McDonald’s? Burger King?

 

He looked upwards and then asked me, “Does Caruso’s work?” Holy shit, did he just offer Caruso’s?

 

“You’re pulling my leg. Caruso’s, the restaurant on top of Westin hotel?” I asked him with disbelief.

 

“Yeah, and?” he replied. Did this guy just offer me food, at Caruso’s? They sell expensively small portions of food, and it’s double-expensive for being in a hotel.

 

“Nothing! Just surprised that’s all. I didn’t think you could afford Caruso’s,” I accepted his offer. He better not be messing with me.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I can, afford, it,” he assured me. It wasn’t much for confirmation because he emphasized afford. This seems fishy. “Let me text Lena and see what she says,” he pulled out his phone and started texting, “and sent! Now let’s see how long it takes her to reply.” Jack began giggling to himself, there is definitely something fishy.

 

“JACK!” Lena’s voice echoed down the hall. She was sprinting towards Jack. Jesus, she was sprinting faster than a cheetah. It took her no time at all to be right behind Jack and slapping his face into the wall. Far behind her was this tall, slender, woman with long black hair, and this bearded man holding a euphonium, I think it’s a euphonium at least. It was a large brass instrument basically. Well, Lena wasn’t finished with Jack apparently. “I told you, stop trying to waste your money on expensive things!” I leaned against the wall. This would be interesting and my legs are tired from standing.

 

“It was just a joke, Lena.” Jack pushed Lena off him. Laughingly he continued, “C’mon Gabe, let’s go to McDonald's.” There it is, McDonald’s. Of course, he was pulling my leg, but free food is free food. Also, did he call me, Gabe? “You don’t mind if I call you Gabe, do you? Gabriel sounds so long and formal,” he hunched his back when he said ‘long and formal’ and looked upwards in supposed boredom. Guess that answers my question.

 

“Sure, whatever,” I’ll allow him to call me Gabe. It’s better than someone saying Gabriella or something.

 

“Ok. Lena, are you ready to go?” he asked.

 

“Almost, I’ve got to tell Amelie what to do,” Lena replied to Jack, and she turned to talk to the slender woman, who is probably Amelie. She started instructing Amelie on what to do, and they both shoved the man into the room. After they were done talking, Jack and Lena started walking outside. The fast food restaurant was not at all far, it was just a couple blocks away. I trailed behind them while they discussed their orders. Their chatter just flowed right through my head.

 

In no time at all, we were standing right outside McDonald’s. Jack asked me, “So what are you going to order?” Fuck, what was I going to order? Uh, I can get a McFlurry, a Big Mac maybe, or maybe just a bunch of chicken nuggets. Wait, that’s too many things, I can’t order all that.

 

“Just a Big Mac,” I answered. That should be enough food without sounding greedy.

 

“You don’t have to be shy.” No, I don’t have to, but my Abuela taught me to be polite, or tried to at least.

 

“No, it’s fine.”

 

Jack shrugged and pushed open the large glass doors. “Let’s go to the kiosks and order,” he pointed at the kiosk. Those kiosks are amazing. They get rid of the social tightrope you walk on when ordering at the cashier. “You guys go get some seats.”   
  
“Alright! Let’s go, Gabe,” Lena began to point towards the tables and led the charge. Gracias a Dios, there were many open seats. If it was rush hour, grabbing a table would be a joke. Actually, getting inside would be a joke.

 

There was this booth in the corner, it seemed like a nice spot. “Hey Lena, you wanna sit here?”

 

“Sure!” she chirped, loudly. Everyone has to be looking at us now. Well, everyone is that one old lady sitting by herself. Mind your own business!   
  
The booth was big enough to hold four people. Two on each side. I’m sure Lena and Jack will sit together, so I sat across from Lena. It was silent between us, boringly silent. Someone had to slice it with small talk, and that would be me.   
  
“So-” As I was beginning to speak, Lena decided that that was also a good time to speak as well.

 

“How long you’ve been playing?” she cut me off.

 

Could I consider my first two years as playing? I didn’t really do much, or practice. Nah. “Just about twelve years now.”   
  
“Wow, that’s quite a long time.”

 

Indeed it is my friend. “Yeah.” Now that I have the turn to speak, “So what instrument do you play, if any at all?”

 

“Would you believe me if I said the double-bass?” Would I? Why wouldn’t I?

 

“Yes?” her eyes widened just a little bit. Could it be that people don’t believe her?

 

“Oh, that’s good, because that’s what I play.” That’s good? How strange. Jack walked in with a tray piled with food. The tray bent underneath the weight of the Big Mac buried under all salads, hamburgers, chicken nuggets, and french fries. When Jack said don’t be shy, he wasn’t kidding. He’s not shy at all.

 

“Let’s eat!” He grabbed a hamburger that was close to toppling off the mountain. Lena started pulling out fries from the stack. There was no safe way to get my Big Mac. Pulling out the Big Mac threatened the very balance of this stack, but maybe I could Jenga it out. The boxes of chicken nuggets were put on the side, the packets of sauce were placed into a bag, and the excess hamburgers were stacked neatly next to the chicken nugget boxes. There it was, a clear path to grab the Big Mac right from the middle of the tray. The warmth of the Big Mac was preserved by the surrounding food. It was like a little ball of fire. My first bite exploded satisfaction and relief throughout my body. Everybody says McDonald’s is unhealthy, but it is definitely comfort food. The corners of my eyes are getting moist again, but I must move on.

 

“So if you,” Jack’s eating while he’s talking, “don’t mind me… asking… How long have you been… playing?” Well, at least he keeps his mouth closed while he chews.

 

Before I could even answer, Lena chimes in for me, “Twelve years, Jackie! He’s been playing for twelve years!”

 

“Twelve years, huh? That must mean you were about, what, like ten years old when you started?” Jack stopped eating and talking, and he began to pester me with questions. Does it really matter when I started?  
  
“Uh yeah, I guess about ten. Give or take a couple years.” Ambiguous, good job Gabe.

 

Jack got up from the booth and handed me his phone, “Well I have to go, but do you want to exchange numbers?”

 

No harm in exchanging numbers, right? “Sure, why not?” I handed him my phone as well.

 

“Alright, done! Thanks, Gabe,” Jack seemed happy to be exchanging numbers and handed back my phone. Wow, he smiles a lot.

 

“Here,” Jack got his phone back and left. Looming in front of me still was the organized pile of fast food.

 

“So you going to let me take it all, or you wanna split the leftovers?” Lena chimed in. Jack didn’t finish half of it. Lena already started putting food into bags. Is this a normal thing for them? But, leftovers do sound good.

 

“Yeah sure,” I really want some hamburgers. “Mind if I take the hamburgers?”

 

“No way, I want some hamburgers too!” she grabbed the hamburgers from my hands. The buns were crushed in her hands, and a part of me died. If I want what’s best for the food, I’ll have to give up some.

 

“Fine, but I get these two boxes of chicken nuggets.” I grabbed the two ten-piece boxes of nuggets to realize, I have nowhere to put this. There’s no way I’m putting it in my violin case. Absently, I muttered, “I need a bag.”  
  
“Here, I’ve got a dime,” Lena offered me what basically was a bag. It’s been really annoying to pay for the bag tax the government placed, but there’s been a lot more reusable bags lately. Dime now in my hand, I exchanged it for a paper bag at the cashier.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem! I had fun today Gabe, but I really got to get back. Amelie won’t take over my shift that long!” Lena raced out the doors in front of me leaving me all alone.

 

What do I do now? I can either go buy groceries or go sleep. Well, I’m carrying this violin, and I have leftovers. Sleep it is. I walked out the door and walked to the 28 bus stop. Thankfully, the 28 runs often around noon, so it was less than a few minutes before it arrived. There were no seats open. Every seat was filled with a senior, a loud naive kid with their parents, or the lucky quick young adults. I was not any of those, so standing was the only option remaining. The bus ride went by pretty quick and soon I was off the bus and in front of my apartment complex.

  
My shoulders loosened at the sight of the building. Back hunching over, legs bent inwards, and eye dreary, I slugged inside. If it's not sleeping, it can wait. Except for those five flights of stairs. The ghostly presence of my bed pulled me up the cold concrete stairs. The windows provided almost adequate lighting for my feet, but they were placed on the wrong side of the stairs. Where the sun shined in only at dusk. I’ve climbed these stairs enough times to feel my way up. Soon there were no more stairs, and I arrived at my apartment. My brain started to run on autopilot and there was no need to fumble with the keys. There it was, my mattress on the floor, bed! I jumped into the bed without a care. My suit can come off later, there was too much bullshit today.  

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, you guys made it to the end. I'm really happy if you did. I wanted to try the first person and see how it turned out. Feedback would be appreciated. 
> 
> This is what Gabriel would've played if you were wondering: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bVRTtcWmXI   
> This is what an A Melodic Minor Scale sounds like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOf5PSNDKiY


End file.
